The Alonzo Kings Lines Ballet of San Francisco has been making waves in the world of dance for more than four decades.
It made a one-night appearance March 11 at the Kravis Center as part of its PEAK series of “provocative entertainment” offerings.
Alonzo King, who is the choreographer, artistic director and co-founder of Lines Ballet, is known for his innovative movement and his works are in the repertories of numerous leading ballet and modern companies. King approaches his art form in a collaborative way. He calls his works “thought structures” and he creates them by manipulating the energy he observes that exists in all things. He trains his dancers to approach any and every movement — whether new or familiar — with freshness and openness, which brings an authentic energy and intention to his choreography.
The program featured two new works that King premiered in 2024. The first was set to the music of Maurice Ravel and the other to the music of Alice Coltrane, two very different musicians who also searched for individuality and freshness as artists.
The mixture of these three trailblazer creators, who love the journey of exploring and pushing the boundaries of their art forms, produced a rich and textured evening that invited us to join the journey of re-exploring the music of Ravel and Coltrane through a different lens — the sensational movement style of King’s chorography as interpreted and performed by his extraordinary company of dancers.
The program began with Ma Mére L’oye (Mother Goose), set to Ravel’s Mother Goose Suite. King’s ensemble work was in no way a traditional interpretation of the beloved fairy tales. Whereas the score evoked a sense of childhood and innocence, the choreography does not. In fact, if one hadn’t seen the title of the dance or wasn’t familiar with Ravel’s work by the same title, one would not have known from watching the movement that it had anything to do with the famous tales.
According to a program note, King was interested in capturing the undertones and deeper allegorical meaning that lay hidden beneath the familiar tales of “Sleeping Beauty” and “Beauty and the Beast.” Performed by three women dancing on pointe and six men, the work unfolded in a Prélude, five tableaux and an Apotheose. Ravel, who rejoiced in anything to do with animals and children, originally wrote the score for two pianos but later orchestrated it with the intent of it becoming a ballet for children.
In the first tableau, “The Spinning Wheel Dance,” Lorris Eichinger set the mood with his slow and somewhat somber solo danced in a smoky spotlight.
Adji Cissoko danced with Shuaib Elhassan in a duet that evolved from slow and sensual to sharper and more character-esque. At one point, the tall and willowy Tatum Quiñónez inserted a solo into their duet as they watched interrupted. The final and lasting image in Cissoko and Elhassan’s duet with its distinctly unusual partnering was her off-balance, high leg extension that he countered and rotated as he made a wide circle around her. Here, she needed him, but when she was returned to a position on-balance, she pushed him off as she no longer needed him.
Later, alone onstage wearing a long orange skirt, Josh Francique was masterful and concise in his dynamic performance.
Marusya Madubuko was quick and clean in her various solo appearances. I remember a particular moment — a dare moment — where in the midst of her quickly executed steps, she paused to strike a low arabesque on pointe and stayed balanced as she slowly and unwaveringly brought her back leg up to the front into a parallel passé, only then to continue on in her quickly paced solo.
King, who has always been inspired by Coltrane’s music, choreographed his very first piece to her music, which was premiered at the inaugural performance of his company in 1982. He created Ode to Alice Coltrane as part of a wide-reaching collaboration in partnership with the John and Alice Coltrane Home and the Coltrane Family for “The Year of Alice” — a series of nationwide tributes that honors Coltrane’s life and work.
In contrast to the warm pastel colors and minimalist look of the first work, Ode to Alice Coltrane was visually more arresting. The beginning was etched against a dark background in which lighting designer Seah Johnson used five stark, downward-directed, white specials to monochromatically illuminate a line of five bodies crawling, then falling into a slumped down shape flat on the floor, before repeating the ritual, all set to the sparse sound of a low bass horn and some individual notes created from the plucking of strings. It was an image that resonated.
The work was set to a Prelude and 13 sections that had a wide variety of different sounds that began sparsely and became more jazz-like as the work evolved. After the monochromatic beginning, color was slowly introduced in both the costumes and the stage lighting. The sky-blue cyc with a projected fractured light reminded me of religious paintings where from above a ray of light shines down through the clouds. By the end of the piece, there was a multitude of fractured lights that looked more reminiscent of the northern lights.
There was ample opportunity amongst the intricate and layered ensemble choreography to appreciate the talents of the dancers as they were highlighted in a variety of short solos that were interspersed throughout Ode to Alice Coltrane. Mikal Gilbert immediately caught my eye as the work began. Theo Duff-Grant, who is a bold mover, was full of strength and elegance, his arms carving through space as powerfully as his legs. Maël Amatoul was uniquely himself with his easy style of moving.
Elhassan, dressed in a teal skirt, was lightning fast and intricate in his solo moments whereas the beautiful Cissoko was slow and languid at first as a wash of dancers crossed the stage. Her movement, always a tapestry of fluidity, precision and gorgeous line, sped up as she pushed to cover the dark space which was lit from above by spotlights that followed her from one side of the stage to the other.
There were subtle changes in the costumes that occurred almost inconspicuously during the Coltrane work. An example is when Quiñónez returned to do a solo between two lines of dancers wearing a sheer tulle shell that shimmered warmly in the side lighting. Whenever she dropped quickly from a high to low level, the translucent orange fabric ended floating around her neck like a cloud.
For both works, the costumes were by Robert Rosenwasser, who co-founded Lines with King in 1982, and serves not only as the executive director but also as the creative director for the company. Working closely with King, Rosenwasser shapes the aesthetic and artistic direction of each project at the company, including conceptual design and production.
In the program notes, Coltrane’s son, jazz saxophonist Ravi Coltrane, commented on his mother’s enduring impact: “Alice was ahead of her time, …It’s hard to pinpoint what makes her music so powerful, but there’s something in her spirit, in her intention, that is very clear—and people can feel that immediately.”
The same could be said for Alonzo King and his choreography. His movement is filled with his intuitive creativity. It has an indulgence that is so luscious and sensual but, at the same time, it is so clean and sculpted. Added to this alchemy is how he works and trains his dancers. Each is brilliant in their own way and can move so easily from the precise and balanced movements of ballet to the falling and counter-weighted movements of contemporary dance.
One thing is sure. Everyone who left the theater that Wednesday night left knowing that what they had seen was something exceptional. It was yet another inspirational evening by Alonzo King Lines Ballet.